A CHROMATIC BEAR HUNT 



self. Repeatedly we found ourselves spinning 

 in the grip of an eddy, with a herd of icebergs 

 wallowing behind us. I remember one sea- 

 green fellow which followed at our stern, 

 lunging after us no matter whither we turned, 

 or were turned, and which it took us several 

 minutes to shake off. 



We landed, then worked our way up past 

 the cataract, where the river leaped and bel- 

 lowed and the snow banks overhung. It was 

 much like the Royal Gorge below Niagara, 

 only there were no plank promenades nor 

 souvenir postal cards. The opposite side was 

 a sheer mountain slope slashed here and there 

 by snow slides. On one of these we saw a 

 bear. While we were watching him, another 

 one came in sight a half mile upstream. The 

 two crept down to the edge and began to fish, 

 standing motionless above the eddies where 

 the salmon rested, to execute at intervals a 

 lightning-like flip with their forepaws and 

 send a silver fish whirling out upon the bank. 



The first animal was in range, but Fred 

 declared its color was wrong. 



" If you get him he'll cost you a new carpet," 

 he said, so we crept up opposite the other, the 

 tumult of the canon drowning our approach. 



95 



